


So Why Can't I?

by HowardR



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Horrortale (Undertale), Horrortale Sans (Undertale)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:20:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24394894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HowardR/pseuds/HowardR
Summary: Sans has just offered to get some grub. Despite the image of a shiny silver axe in his palm, or maybe because of it, you accept.A chorus of voices in your head are telling you this is a bad idea.You can't help but agree, as the light plays on the massive crater in Sans's skull and he grins his manic grin at you.Until he tells you a story.
Relationships: Sans (Undertale) & Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 28





	So Why Can't I?

"Fast shortcut, eh?"

You were as shrunk into your seat as you possibly could be, even as Sans grinned his wide, inhuman grin at you. An odd, alien cold had passed over you, the taste of mint had filled your mouth and burned your nostrils. Everything had gone static, and the world had burned and crackled away like a cold, electrical fire.

And, suddenly, you and Sans had both been here, sitting in your seats.

Sans grinned across the table at you, thin little pinprick pupils narrowing in sadistic amusement. You automatically shied away just a little more, and Sans's grin widened.

His fingers were already rolling against the table, laying out a four-beat pattern that you knew would haunt you for the rest of your life.

_ C-c-c-click. _

Sans glanced around the place impulsively, eyes darting like bugs. The room was draped in a thick, royal purple, walls covered in pretentious, ugly art and the smell of off-brand sausage in the air.

At least the seats were comfy.

Between both of you, sat a single, burning candle. The wax dripped slowly down it, and your eye followed the thick droplet on its steady path.

_ Heh. Slow and steady wins the race, eh, wax? _

The smile that had almost formed on your lips faded.

_...Just like me. Crawling along to your doom, simply because there's nothing else you can do. _

Your hand reached forward just a touch, and, just as Sans turned to you again, you darted forward and plucked the hot wax off the candle with a swipe of your finger, wiping it off on the leg of the table.

Sans glanced down at the candle. But, if he noticed anything off about it, he didn't say anything.

There was a pause. You had unshrunk from your seat just the tiniest bit, though the image of a cheerily glinting axe kept you from relaxing.

And, suddenly, Sans's fingers stopped rolling.

They clunked out their final beat and just... laid there, on the table - like a petrified spider, upright but perfectly still. With a slow, almost careful movement, Sans drew his hand off the table.

His grin fell away from his face with an almost startling suddenness. Well, no, there was still a smile there - but it no longer held that manic energy, that sadistic glee that made it so uniquely terrifying.

Without it, the smile almost looked... sad.

Sans's eyes - or pupils, at least - refocused on you for the shortest moment, before darting to the flame on top of the candle, flickering away. He leant forward a little, propping his elbow on the table and leaning his head on his hand as he stared into the fire thoughtfully.

There was a long, silent pause, where you weren't sure whether to be concerned, relieved, or terrified.

"...Hey, kid." Sans said suddenly, but slowly. You glanced anxiously up to him.

He didn't meet your eye.

"...Let me tell you a story."

You blinked.

Sans had _ never _ offered you information. Papyrus had needled him into it a few times, but he had never, of his own volition, told you a single thing - unless, of course, you counted the persuasive arguments about taking a hot dog.

You didn't.

Especially since, as far as Sans was concerned, that had never happened.

"...So, you may have picked up on this," he went on quietly. "But I'm a sentry in snowdin forest. And Waterfall. I wait around in my station, watching the world go bye and waiting for a human to come around so I can brutally murder it."

You flinched. Sans didn't seem to notice.

"It's... boring, to say the least."

You blinked. Again.

Usually, you wouldn't describe  _ waiting for murder _ as  _ boring _ , but, you supposed now that you thought about it, it would be. It had apparently been a long time since the last human came around, and Sans had spent every day between them waiting for...

For you.

You shivered.

"But, one day, a..." Sans chuckled. It was a dark, harsh sound. "Well, what certainly  _ feels _ like a very long time ago, anyway, I decided to just... walk. Walk down the forest trail, looking for something to sate my need for... well, for  _ something _ .  _ Anything _ ."

"And, I found, at the end of a long walk... a door."

You raised your eyebrows. Sans didn't seem to notice you at all.

"This massive, purple door. So damn big that Papyrus wouldn't reach the top no matter how hard he tried. Cold, too - since it was stone, and all. Cold as ice."

Sans's hand reached up toward the flame, cupping it with a kind of affection that you had never seen before. The light that had been cast on the side of his face softened, and the crater in his skull seemed less obvious.

It struck you that, for the first time, Sans didn't look like he might murder you any second.

"...So, what did I do? Open it, maybe? Try to find out what was on the other side?"

Sans chuckled again. It was, once again, a self-deprecating sound, harshly scraping from his throat - or skeleton equivalent.

"No. I used it to tell *jokes*, of all things."

You blinked, eyebrows raising impulsively. Sans glanced up at you, causing your breath to freeze in your throat for a moment - but he simply smiled when he noticed your shock.

Not grinned.  _ Smiled _ . It was small, barely more then a tick - but it was there. And it seemed to soften his whole face, making it fall into a relaxed kind of youth that you never would begin to associate with the Sans that had decapitated you.

Your brain rebelled against the sudden swoop of pity in your stomach.

"Yeah, I know." He said quietly, understanding and a little amusement in his voice. "I don't seem like the joke-tellin' type, do I?"

_ One Head-dog, comin' up! _

You shook your head quickly, hair flying back and forth.

"Well, believe it or not, I used to be a..."

He winked.

"Real  _ punny  _ guy."

In another life, one where Sans hadn't murdered you brutally, you might have even laughed. As it was, the sheer shock of  _ Sans _ , of all people,  _ winking _ at you and telling a, frankly  _ cheesy _ pun, made you simply go bug-eyed.

Sans sighed a little, looking disappointed but not surprised. Or resentful, for that matter.

"So, I just used it for puns. Knock-knock jokes, the most formulaic and boring form of comedy. And, every day, I came down there and tested out a whole page of em', one after another, to see if they sounded good."

Sans looked at the flickering candle flame again. His hand reached up, and he began to test the flame, bringing his fingers close enough to make it flicker before darting away.

"So, one day, I was in the middle of a page. 'Knock, knock',"

Sans knocked on the table to emphasize the point. You just managed not to flinch.

"I said, and almost responded to myself, like always. But, before I could - someone else responded, from the other side."

"'Who's there?'"

Sans smiled a little, sad and distant, before it dropped away almost a second later.

"So, overcoming my shock, I responded, for lack of something better,"

"'Dishes.'"

You furrowed your brow in confusion.

"'Dishes who?'" Sans responded, presumably taking the role of the person on the other side of the door.

Sans grinned happily. There was no sadism in it, though - just genuine amusement, and a little nostalgia.

_ "Dishes a very bad joke." _

He winked. The laugh that spilled from your throat was loud, surprised, and ugly, harsh with a lack of hydration. You coughed a little afterwards.

Sans didn't seem to notice, though. For just the shortest, barely noticeable moment, it was like his whole face had lit up - complete, total happiness making his features soften and eyes turn into little crescents.

You smiled at him. It was completely genuine.

Mom had always said your smile was ugly. But Sans smiled right back, cheerful and proud.

...And then you remembered that Sans was a _literal_ _murderer_.

...So of  _ course _ he would be the first person to smile at you.

Your smile dropped away so fast that you almost expected to feel wind on your lips. Sans blinked, looking confused - before his eyes flashed in understanding.

You almost expected him to be angry at you for your sudden lack of amusement, and you shied away almost unconsciously - but he simply sighed a little, looking back at the flame and beginning to poke at it again.

“And this woman,”

You neglected to mention that he had never mentioned that the person on the other side of the door was a woman.

“Just  _ howls, _ I tell ya’. Like she’s never heard better.”

Sans is smiling again. It looks like it’s a thousand miles away - sad, and impossibly soft.

You feel another nauseating swoop of pity.

“So, I keep telling jokes. She keeps laughing. Soon enough, we’re both trading jokes, back and forth - she’s pretty damn good, too.” He chuckles, smile turning nostalgic.

“So, I come back. And then, I come back again.”

His smile drops away as much as it ever does.

“But, one day, she’s… quiet. Quieter then she’s ever been. My chuckles are relegated to just being echoes in the forest rather then a chorus.”

Sans laughs. It’s self-deprecating again.

“So, because I was young, and naive, and  _ stupid - _ I asked what was wrong.”

He looks angry. You almost want to run away - but his eyes are still on the flame.

“And,  _ of course, _ she wants something. Not just a little something, either - something like my name, or a description of snow, or groceries or some shit - no, she wants a  _ promise.” _

He spits out the word like poison. You flinch.

Sans is suddenly scary again.

“And, even though I was young - I already knew that was a bad idea. But, because I was a  _ stupid little shit _ \- I gave her the promise anyway.”

He’s snarling, now, fingers clenched on the tablecloth.

“I promised that, next time a human came through the door - I wouldn’t hurt em’.”

You can’t help the shocked expression on your face. Sans doesn’t notice.

He sighs slightly - and the tension in his shoulders ease a little, face relaxing a bit. Still, his voice is dark.

“So, lo and behold, just a little while later - a kid walks through the door.”

His eyes suddenly lock with your’s again.

“They looked a lot like you, actually.” He said quietly. You’re shrunk back in your seat, eyes wide and arms impulsively curled around yourself. “A little shorter, a little less thin, eyes a bit smaller - and, of course, without that terrible dress. But, essentially…”

He looks away again. His eyes drift lazily around the corners of the flame, and he props his head on his hand again.

His eyes are black.

“Anyway. I ended up… well, I ended up keeping my word.” He glances at you. “If there’s  _ anything _ I can keep, it’s my word.”

He looks at the flame again, hand raising to prod at it.

“And, in the end, they’re in the last corridor, ready to face the king. And I know - I  _ know _ \- that one of them has to die. But, even though I don’t want that, I let them go. I  _ tried _ to bring them here,  _ tried  _ to convince them to stay - but, in the end… I couldn’t even convince  _ myself  _ I wanted that.”

He chuckled again.

“ _ I’m rootin’ for ya, kid. _ ”

You get the horrible feeling you’re missing something.

“So, I let em’ go and fight the king.”

He laughed. It was full, and hearty, and completely, totally insane.

“And look at how that went!” He crooned. You want to run. Fear pools in your stomach like sludge.

“Look at me now! No life, no friends, no health. I’ve got  _ nothin’ _ . All cause I let  _ one fuckin’ kid _ go.”

He gestured to the jagged black crater in his head.

“I’ve paid my debt. I let the kid go - and the underground lost all hope. All the souls - gone. Everyone’s happiness - gone. And a big chunk of my head - gone, too. I had it all, kid - and I threw it all away, just because I couldn’t fulfill my debt to this race and kill a single kid.”

He stared into the flame.

And then, suddenly, his eyes locked onto you.

You froze. Any pity you had turned to dread in an instant.

“I could fix it, though.” He whispered. His eyes were pitch black holes, stretching forever into darkness. “I could repair my debt, my standing. I could… I could get it all back.”

His hand raised. His fingers poised to snap, and a single, blood-red pupil flared in his left eye.

You were suddenly completely, totally certain that if Sans snapped his fingers… you would die.

...So why weren’t you running?

“I could fix it all, right now. I didn’t promise to protect  _ you _ .” His voice was barely louder then the wind. His grin was wide. “I could tell Papyrus whatever I want - he’s not here to see it for himself, and I’ve lied to him before.”

His fingers tensed.

So WHY AREN'T YOU RUNNING?!??!

_...He won’t do it. _

...What?

_ He won’t do it. I… he won’t. _

Yes, he will. He’s lost it all, there’s nothing to lose and everything to gain. He’s done it to you before. Why the hell wouldn’t he now?

_...I… don’t know. But… I want to think he won’t. _

That isn’t good enough, you IDIOT!

Sans stared across at you, fingers tense. His eye pulsed rhythmically.

“I… just have to do what I should’ve done a long time ago.”

RUN!!!

Sans stared.

“It’ll barely take anything at all. Just one little snap, and… poof. Dead.”

Sans closed his eyes.

“I can fix it all, just by killing you.” He whispered.

There was a long, tense pause.

“...So why can’t I?”

You stared at him, completely shocked. He opened his eyes, hand falling by his side again.

He didn’t meet your gaze.

“...We won’t see each other again.”

He said it with complete certainty. He lifted a heavy hand and tossed a handful of coins on the table.

And walked away, hands in his pockets.

You stared after him.

You should’ve run.

But you hadn’t. And Sans…

Sans was gone. The restaurant was silent.

...And you were alone.

And it struck you that, of all the monsters, the only one you didn’t think might kill you the first chance it got…

Was the one who had already decapitated you.

_ We won’t see each other again. _

...You weren’t sure whether to be relieved by that, or disappointed.

And that thought filled you with FEAR.

That must be what was pooling unsteadily in your gut, making you want to run out the door. To chase Sans down.

...Neither of you had ordered.

**Author's Note:**

> So... horrortale?
> 
> I, honestly, have/had little to no interest in this au - but this one-shot popped into my head fully-formed and I had to get it on paper - err, pr screen, I guess.
> 
> And I got a new laptop! So I should be spamming the feeds with work soon enough.
> 
> Filled with COFFEE,
> 
> -Howard R.


End file.
